


He Was Free

by HedaBeka



Series: I-mthebadguy's Drabbles [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Cutting, DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE TRIGGERED, I love you guys too much, PLEASE DONT DO THIS, Suicide, selfharm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-16 05:43:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4613403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HedaBeka/pseuds/HedaBeka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Murphy has been dealing with his demons for far too long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Was Free

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: CUTTING/SUICIDE [DON'T READ IF TRIGGERED]

The voices were sharp, and they were blunt - they pierced his skin and crawled beneath his pale flesh. They nibbled at his veins and tugged away at the thin casing until his blood was slipping free of their tubes. It slid out of the gaps in his skin where they had prodded him. It ran in a bright crimson curl down his arms, trickling down his finger tips and plopping down into a puddle at his feet. It was vile, but a smile curled across his lips while tears begged to tear down his cheeks. They slipped free as he sunk to the floor, knees planting clumsily into the pool of thick-scented blood. Murphy could hear his sobs faintly in the background, but the voices were far too loud. They roared and beat at his skull, forcing his attention on them and nothing else. Not even the blood draining from his arm. Even the blurred edges of his vision were ignored as the voices snapped at his ears.

"Murderer." "Coward." "You deserve to suffer." "You killed those kids. You killed your PARENTS!" "Lousy." "Useless." "You should've rotted in the prison camp." "You deserve to die." "Why are you such a screw up?" "The bad guy." "A criminal." "Don't fight it." "It's who you are." "A failure." "It should've been you on the stake!" "Your fault!" "You caused this!" "You started this!" You got sick- You killed your father!" "Your mother suffered because of you!" "You should've died, not her!" 

Murphy cringed, leaning forward into the puddle as the voices began to merge into one loud, thundering voice, "Your fault!" They chanted in his ears and pounded at his skull, breaking him apart with each chant. His vision was fuzzing out already, and the blood was sticky on his arms, his fingers, his knees, his chest, his face. A whimper blew off of his lips and displaced the crimson liquid. The voices were fading, dying out as the blood flow began to lessen. 

His vision was fully black when his ears caught something past his own harsh breathing, a voice. It wasn't like the ones crowding his skull. This one was loud, but it wasn't snapping. It was high pitched, frightened? He let out a shaky breath as he felt his hearing go in and out with the new voice.

"Mu- Oh go- Do you- MURPHY? Fuc- EED HELP- Stay- me-" The voice finally muffled out as he felt himself wade into darkness. 

A seeming nothingness. It was quiet, and he knew if he could he would smile. Smile because it was over. Smile because they had gone silent. 

He was free.


End file.
